


One

by Findarato



Category: Messiah Project - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark Thoughts, Emotional Porn, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 22:25:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findarato/pseuds/Findarato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year to know a person, half a year to love them. One month to say goodbye, and one day to regret. AU; if Mamiya/Yuri were a permanent partnership.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightningwaltz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningwaltz/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** The Messiah Project does not belong to me.  
>  **Spoilers:** Eisei, Hisui, and Hagane  
>  **A/N:** I had like nine pages of this finished already and I was hellbent on finish it for Stephanie's birthday, because I couldn't finish what I wanted to during Christmas for her fjdklsaj. But here it is—20 pages of Mamiya/Yuri, for you. This couldn't have been done without you and Haylee. Thank you guys for being awesome.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _To Stephanie, my Messiah in writing. Happy birthday ♥_  
> 

**.**

**Yuri.**

There is no shame in apologising. No shame in admitting you're wrong. You're only apologising for an error in facts, not an error in your character. No one should make you feel like you were shit for being wrong.

That's something which makes sense in theory, and hardly in practice. When Yuri sees Mamiya handling his gun, or holding his violin, he feels a little bad. No one deserved to get shoved or yelled at after a stressful day. That time has passed a week ago, but Yuri still feels troubled.

"I really am sorry," he says. "I didn't damage your violin, did I? I can buy you another one—"

"No, it's all right." Mamiya opens the case. "No harm done." He shows him that any scratches there, they came from when he was on the run.

 _But you ran out of the room. I chased you out. I should've come looking for you and said sorry then and there._ He bites his lip.

Mamiya pats him on the shoulder, somewhat stiffly. "I don't doubt your words, Yuri. I'm all right."

He wants to believe it, not just to make himself feel better, but to make Mamiya feel better.

"Can we start over?" he asks. "Because I should've taken your hand that day we were assigned."

Mamiya looks at him, surprised. But then he recovers himself with a smile, and holds out his hand. He takes it, probably too eagerly. "Yuri Kaitou. Pleased to be working with you."

"Mamiya Seiren. The same."

It's technically been a week, but maybe now he can stop apologising, and start learning.

**.**

**Mamiya.**

They still work in their group of four, probably because it's easier for all of them. Yuri calls out things to Shirasaki out of habit, and he doesn't mind it either. They're old friends; Sakura isn't really reinforcing the one rule all that much. It fells like teamwork, and it feels like he's settling in.

If not, for the fact, he sends data to Persian and Siamese. He uses a separate phone, and they're still planning that after a year, all the things they'd be carrying out. He signs those messages with Short Hair, and it's all coming along well. No one suspects anything.

He fits into this place very nicely, after all. His marks aren't bad, he keeps up, he smiles, and this could probably all be done without a care in the world.

But after since Yuri apologised to him, and they started things anew, he can't ignore some of the thoughts. The ones he's buried. The self he's buried under layers of dark, sarcastic things he likes to comment on. He doesn't think he's hearing voices or anything like that, because it's all him, but he's simply a mess of too many thoughts, wants and needs. He adapts to the situation and he's…well.

Convoluted. Twisted. Tainted.

All those things, and not.

Well, if he ever blows this place up, he'll keep Yuri alive and let him escape. Maybe if he's feeling generous, Shirasaki and Ariga as well.

But look, he's already compromising, and maybe by the next year he won't even want to do this anymore. Revenge is pointless. Life is pointless. He could die and people would mourn for a month, and then they would forget. He's got no family or friends to fully care.

That's how life goes.

**.**


	2. Chapter 2

**.**

**Yuri.**

Three weeks, and Yuri is learning so much. Mamiya goes to bed earlier than he does, but doesn't fall asleep until after an hour, sometimes more. He's asked before if it's because the room is too bright, or if the typing is a distraction, but no, Mamiya says it isn't.

Yuri ends up sleeping at the same time, just to sure. He lies there, and listens to breathing that is not his, the feet that shift underneath blankets, and the tossing and turning, before he falls asleep. Only twice did he manage to keep himself awake long enough to hear Mamiya is actually asleep. He wonders what Mamiya is thinking before sleep, if worries are running through his mind, or if it's a blank space of white noise and ringing ears and maybe the repetition of a melody. Or counting. Yuri likes to count, though not sheep. He counts the hours of the day and what he's done, who he's talked to, and what they've completed. He counts the number of times he's talked to Mamiya during that day, and what they've talked about.

It's after three weeks, that he wakes up at four, and realises Mamiya isn't there. Yuri had gotten up and pulled out his uniform coat, and gone wandering to find him. Mamiya is in one of the chapels, playing violin. That's how Yuri is led there.

"I couldn't sleep, and I had this piece stuck in my mind. It's called The Swan."

"It's beautiful," he replies. A slow piece, like the one he first heard when they were assigned together, but seemingly elegant…and lonely.

"It's meant to be a duet," Mamiya tells him, fingers still plucking at strings when he talks. "But it sounds fine on its own, doesn't it?"

"I'd like to hear it as a duet, someday."

"Maybe we'll get someone in here who knows how to play the piano."

"I played, as a kid." Yuri finds himself blurting this out. "But then I stopped." He almost wishes he continued, past the scales and "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." If he thinks hard enough, he knows the key of C and D and maybe A, and how to place his fingers on the keys.

"Could you play it again? I missed the beginning of it."

Mamiya looks startled, but pleased too, especially when he smiles and he lifts his violin back to his chin.

Three weeks, and he knows his Messiah is an insomniac. One that plays pieces meant for two people, or more, and solos in the middle of the night. It's almost unfair that he's simply an audience, but every time he wakes up and finds Mamiya, he's always welcomed when he pushes the door open, with an acknowledgement and an introduction to whatever is being played that night.

It's too bad you can't play a lullaby for yourself, to help you sleep. But he does notice, after they return to their room, Mamiya always sleeps easier.

Yuri can't tell if it's the music, or if it's him. He hopes it's both.

**.**

**Mamiya.**

"Yuri."

"Yes?"

"How does this work?"

"Oh, these commands—" Yuri points to the screen and rapidly types something. "Like that. Did you get it?"

"I couldn't tell what you typing."

"Sorry." Yuri deletes and does it slowly. "Like that."

"I got it now, thanks."

"You're welcome."

Maybe he should stop this. Maybe he ought to run and disappear. Maybe he should forget all of this, and take on a fake name, and go live somewhere far away from Sakura and terrorism and Japan and Russia. Maybe he should be a hermit, and live on a mountain, and haunt people with his music.

Interaction every day is exhausting. It's not even a month, and he's…trying. They're trying. But he just feels like it's just an attempt, and nothing real. He's holding back someone of his skill, but at the same time they can't fall behind. So it doesn't feel like a progress at all.

Or maybe he's been on his own for too long, and being around people every day, every hour, is something he has to get used to again.

It helps that's Yuri, who sits in a corner and doesn't intrude. Yuri, who puts his socks on before his shirt. Yuri, who listens so closely, biting on his lip.

They have a long ways to go, but it helps that there is someone who is interested in, and wants to know him.

…that's if he were what he said he were. If he weren't a terrorist. If he didn't have plots. The time is set, and he's waiting and watching.

Is it so bad that he wants a little something that's not terrible, before that happens? That he wants a taste of what a relationship is like, of feeling like he won't be cast away? He knows he's lonely. He's aware that he might be doing better in a psychiatric ward or something. He's pretty sure some meds would help.

But he's always been self-reliant.

The line between pretending and want is one he's carelessly drawn and he steps on both of them. Whichever one made his head and heart hurt less.

"Hey, Mamiya."

"Yeah?"

"We have the evening off. Do you want to go for drinks?"

"Sure."

"Great. I know a really good place not too far from here." Is this a date? A quasi-date? Something that friends did? There's no mention of others, so it's just the two of them…

He stares at the screen until he can focus again. He's not acting, so as much as a he's trying, and wanting. Wishing. He wants to be genuinely happy. So this is how he ended up here, in Sakura. Closeness fosters feelings, and feelings beget hope.

Hope for a short time was better than no hope, even if it was rooted in drinks and basic co-worker courtesy.

Maybe it'd be more.

**.**


	3. Chapter 3

**.**

**Yuri.**

He sometimes wonders if he's forgotten how to hold proper conversations with people other than Mamoru. There's so much silence between him and Mamiya when they're not talking about their work, or about computer, or music. He'd feel silly mentioning the weather or whatever is on the news.

But he wants to show Mamiya he cares. That his presence is a fine thing to share in a room. But it seems like their interests are on completely different sides of the room.

"How to make friends," is something in his most recent search, because this isn't an uncommon problem. He remembers in grade school how he hadn't made friends readily either. They were jealous of him and his gaming skills, and no one bothered to challenge him except Mamoru.

Maybe that's how he ended up with a bunch of documentaries and piling them on the table today.

"What's that?"

"I thought we could watch them, in our free time." He looks at the first title, and it's about animals. His face is probably red. "If you want to."

Mamiya picks up the DVD, and looks at it. And then, he looks at Yuri. "I like cats."

"Mamoru had a cat once!" He swallows his relief and nearly shakes with laughter. "But it was more of a stray that he fed a lot and we always stopped to say hi. It was a calico, I think."

"I was too busy to have a cat, but I've always loved them. I've been to a cat café…"

"Oh, I haven't done that. What was it like?"

He actually not even very invested in cats or animal, but this is somewhere they can start. There's more they can talk about later, but right now, he quite all with this. It's only been a month, after all.

**.**

**Mamiya.**

Sometimes it feels like Yuri is more eager than him at this Messiah thing. Yuri almost never raises his voice, but he talks a lot and quite fervently. When you got him going, he doesn't stop. He still remembers when Yuri didn't talk, and how it'd been like a wall of refusal. Both of them had felt more awkward, smaller, and suffocated. The dark room was so crowded. But with these one and a half months, it's opened up. Not just installing a new lamp; the air wasn't thick with resentment. They could talk freely, and he's even learning from Yuri. They had inside jokes, different codes, and he can tell Yuri's smiles apart by now.

If not for Sakura, they wouldn't have ever met. They probably wouldn't even find a single thing similar if they ran into each other by accident.

In some ways, it's a blessing, right? He got his quota of human interaction, of niceties, and a sense that he's not alone. Now it's weird if he has to spend a night alone, or eats by himself. Yuri has filled up parts of him, giving him irreplaceable moments.

Funny, the only times they're apart is when they're called to do different things—Yuri is eternally better at technical stuff, so that gets handed to him. Mamiya mostly gets shuffled around, but they both keep late hours.

It's not surprising that one night when he comes back, Yuri is asleep in front of his computer, head in his arms. Mamiya checked the screen, and sees it's complete. Yuri should've gone to bed, but instead he just put his head down and probably fell asleep then and there.

Mamiya stands there, debating if he ought to…try and carry Yuri off to bed. But that might be awkward, or he might stumble. He hasn't carried anyone, ever…

He finally settles for grabbing a blanket and arranging it over Yuri, and then he drags a chair and blanket over for himself. It didn't feel right for him to be sleeping in a bed. The desk is large enough for two people; he settles his arms as comfortably as he can, inches away from the other.

This is probably ridiculous, but…he's come to like the proximity of another person.

**.**


	4. Chapter 4

**.**

**Yuri.**

Winter is cold.

He states the obvious in his mind, and outwardly he's trying not to rub his fingers together as he monitors the others from inside a rundown shack. Most of the time, he doesn't mind doing this, but in the winter, he's envious of the people get to move. He wants to stamp his feet, jump around, waves his hands—something that makes him less numb, but the sounds would probably be distracting. So he curls his hands more tightly in his gloves, shoving his face more deeply into his scarf. He wishes he had earmuff; the hat he has on isn't quite enough. And his boots felt like blocks of ice.

"Yuri." Mamiya's voice in his ear nearly makes him jump. "You're sighing. Is something wrong?"

"I'm just cold." Very cold. "And complaining to myself about it."

"This is the coldest day yet." Mamiya's voice is slightly muffled, and because it's so low, it doesn't register very well. Yuri has to strain his ears to hear him. "Too bad they couldn't have waited a day or two before putting us on this job."

"I guess that can't wait. Find anything yet?"

"No. Did you contact the others?"

"Two minutes ago. Nothing on their end, either."

"I'm coming back in six minutes to warm up."

"Oh!" He looks at his clock. "Yes, that's right." Eagerness and relief floods his voice; he won't have to sit here alone, for at least fifteen minutes.

Mamiya returns, a dusting of snow all over him. He shakes it off, stomps his feet a few times, and goes to crouch next to Yuri. The heater he has is quite pitiful; a small orange glow of coals and fading embers.

Yuri breathes out; he can still see his breath. "It's probably in the negatives." He could check on his computer, but what's the point? Cold is cold.

"Probably. We're getting more snow, aren't we?"

"Yep."

"I hope spring is early this year."

They both know that's not going to be the case. Unless there was a sudden miraculous thawing, they're going to be stuck like this.

"…Yuri."

"Yeah?"

"You're shivering."

"I can't help it." He's always been a little more prone to feeling the cold.

"May I have your hands?"

It's such a polite question, that Yuri forgets how to answer for a few seconds. "Sure?"

Mamiya pulls off their gloves, and then he clasps their hands together. He rubs this thumbs over Yuri's skin, and the rest his fingers squeeze and massage until the warmth in their hands was the same. All that time, Yuri watches, feels…and wonders.

"Thank you," he says, after Mamiya pulls away and they put their gloves back on.

"You're welcome."

_I need to give you something back._ He glances over at Mamiya, hesitating for a long moment until he finally sticks his hand out and grabs the other's.

"It…It might get cold again."

A slow smile inches its way onto Mamiya's face, and he nods once.

Maybe he's not so bad at this, after all. Three months was a lot of time to learn what's okay and what isn't, and holding hands is very okay. Yuri makes a note to do it more.

**.**

**Mamiya.**

Four months in, and he's sick. Winter winds, rain, and a lack of sleep which do him in and he finds himself shivering as he tries to focus, tries to carry out his duties. It's at least on the slow end; they're monitoring a mall where some perpetrators have infiltrated, and they're waiting for the right time to hit the place. It means staring at screen that blurs, and digging up information at the same time and trying to read it, and straining his ears for conversations that seem to garble and twist in his ears. If he has headphones in, his coughs sound overly loud and painful.

And he's making Yuri worry. He can tell, can still hear. The glances at him, the tense shoulders, but Mamiya always looks up and shakes his head.

It's only when he puts his head down, dizzy, that Yuri finally takes his arm and leads him out of there, with apologies to Shirasaki and Ariga. The world is hazy, like a dream; he's lying in bed and stifling coughs and sniffling and he feels Yuri saying something about buying medication and getting soup.

"It's fine, it'll go away soon."

"Not if you don't do anything about it."

His tongue feels too think his mouth for a reply, so he ends up mumbling that he's just sick, not dying. "You have duties."

"But you're my Messiah, so you ought to be first…"

"Is that in the rules? I don't remember. The rules aren't even clear." Mamiya waves at him. "You don't need to waste your time here."

"It's _not_ a waste of my time." Yuri raises his voice a little, and sharply inhales. "I want to make sure you're fine." And then he puts his hand out and presses it to his forehead.

It's blissfully cool, so nice he nearly moans. After a day of heat squeezing his body, this is better than cold water on his face. Not freezing, and probably actually not cold, but it feels very satisfying. He doesn't even realise he's leaning into that touch until Yuri is shaking his shoulder a little.

"What?"

"You weren't looking at me. You were looking…somewhere else. Unfocused."

"Sorry." He blinks heavily. "I'm…"

_Something_. The words aren't forming, but he wants Yuri there. He reaches out a hand, searchingly. "I'm being a bother."

"You aren't a bother." Yuri smoothes his bangs, his fingers feather-light, but carrying the weight of his words. "I'm going to get something. Wait for me."

_You can leave and not come back, it's all right._ He'll sleep, he'll wake, he'll endure this fever because it's such a stupid thing compared to all other things he's gone through. It's a stupid cold. All other colds he's survived.

Yuri does come back, with medication, soup that wasn't from a can (how he procured it, Mamiya doesn't know), apples, a thermometer, and an icepack. Suddenly he's actually rather bossy, telling Mamiya to eat, to drink water, and saying that he's not allowed back to work until the thermometer registers something lower than 38ºC.

"It's just a cold. And you're going to catch it from me."

"It's miserable being sick by yourself, though." Yuri tells him, matter-of-factly. "Besides, I don't remember the last time I had to nurse someone. Mamoru never gets sick."

He actually doesn't remember the last time he did that either. Or had someone actively fussing over him. Suddenly, it seems like his chest is too tight, and it's almost cruel that Yuri cares. He's sick, not dying. He looks stupid and feels terrible and this is something so minor, and yet there is someone checking his temperature and peeling apples (why did people always bring apples for sick people. Not that he minds, but it seems like it's a staple thing), and refusing to leave his side.

_Why should you care and why are you caring?_

For crying out loud, he's no child. He's older than Yuri and yet he's accepting apple slices being fed to him, and watching how Yuri grins at him when he finishes a whole apple. Like somehow, this is natural. He keeps looking for signs that Yuri is annoyed, that his coughs are too loud, his sneezing disgusting, and how he can't fall asleep and how everything after medication is either muted or loud.

The only clear thing is Yuri, sitting by him, and holding out his hand, because it might help him sleep.

He takes it because if he didn't, he'd be burying his face in a pillow remembering the last time someone held his hand and he had pulled away, because he couldn't figure out if it was better for his parents to love him or dislike him because of their occupation.

Maybe if he changes his actions, Yuri will remain someone, something close. Yuri has no taint, and will not harm Mamiya. But it might go the other way. He might taint Yuri, and he doesn't want that either.

But he leaves his hand there, even squeezing his fingers, because it's the first contact he's had for so long that felt reciprocated and wanted.

**.**


	5. Chapter 5

**.**

**Yuri.**

The one time he tries to ask Mamiya for his birthday, he received a polite refusal of an answer. Yuri has tried to track the information, but the only thing he gets is an age.

But it's been half a year, and not without some realisation, and not without some growth. They do a lot of handholding when they're in their room together, a lot of shoulder brushing. One time Mamiya was drunk and he put his head in Yuri's lap, and basically was a ball of contentment when Yuri ran his fingers through his hair. Once, he had massaged Yuri's shoulders and nearly put both of them to sleep when they should've been pulling an all-nighter.

Isn't it too fast, to fall in love like this? He pulls up a few things from the internet, and either they're very unhelpful or too complicated. He even did those little quizzes that told you if you were in love or not and they seemed to point in the right direction—

However, he still doesn't know Mamiya's birthday. Maybe if he keeps an eye on the information, and on whatever day the age number changes, he'd know, but that's not very productive.

Still, he can celebrate half a year with his Messiah, he can figure out a cake, and a present, even. Shirasaki is quite helpful, and they manage something and he almost wishes he had a camera when Mamiya walked in that room and they threw confetti in his face.

Mamiya still has said so little about his past, but Yuri can tell something has happened. No one joins Sakura because they wanted; there was always a purpose, a plan. When he brings up parents, Mamiya always led the conversation away. When they had target practice, he's quite calm about it, only flinching because of the sound. He smiles, but his eyes weren't touched by it, but when they did, he looks…pained?

Maybe haunted.

It's not like Yuri is forthcoming; he's not proud of the time he was seclusion, mind in the wrong places and his thoughts blended into fantasy and reality. He knows he panics sometimes, speaks too softly, or something sets off his anger and he's shouting. He regrets the whole stupid incident with the sniper gun and shoving Mamiya and his roughness afterwards. On bad days, he wonders why people like him and are still his friends.

But he had friends. Mamiya? A blank page, and things that disturbed Yuri, because anytime he's lost in thought his brows are furrowed and looking so tired and stressed. Sometimes, he looks like he's holding back his words, and Yuri wants to tell him he doesn't have to hold back.

He's thinking all of this even as they hold this tiny party (Kuroko-san crashes and puts party hats on everyone), and he watches Mamiya—he's happy, but sad.

When they're back in their room later, Mamiya sits down next to him, saying nothing, but he holds Yuri's gift in his hands.

"So it's been half a year?"

"More or less. Four days and seventeen hours ago, technically."

Mamiya chuckles a little. "It feels longer."

"Mmh." In some ways.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Yuri is tensing himself up, and Mamiya looks at him. Of course, he can probably sense it. So Yuri blurts it out. "I like you."

He gets a blank look in return.

"I think I might even love you." His voice drops lower, but he keeps it steady. "I can't help it; at first I just felt so bad for yelling at you and I wanted to make it up. And I was okay with just being friends, but now I want to do more. You never asked anything of me, and you know we're allowed to sleep together, but…" He exhales, and it feels like his hands are shaking. "I had to tell you that."

He doesn't know what to make of the expression on Mamiya's face. Shocked? No. Dismay? Not that either.

It's not helplessness, but it's close enough. Lost. Broken even. Like he never thought he'd hear anything like that.

"I mean it. I'm not joking." He suddenly puts his fingers to Mamiya's. "See?"

_You can feel it for yourself._ He's hot all over and his mouth feels so dry, and it's like his whole heartbeat is shaking all over him. "It's okay if you don't feel the same. I won't assume anything. I want you to be all right anything, and I…" He's talking too much and too forwardly and it's embarrassing, but he has nothing to lose. "I want to know you better because I want to listen and understand people, the way you do."

This is probably the closest he's seen Mamiya to losing control; something crosses in his eyes before Mamiya grabs him and holds him, face in Yuri's shoulder. He doesn't cry, but he's shaking, almost worse than Yuri is.

That's a yes, right? It's a yes if all he's hearing is the other saying "Yuri" and clutching at him and not letting go, right?

He puts his own arms around Mamiya because now he's overwhelmed too. This is probably not how two people confess. Yuri wonders if he should've written an email instead.

But Mamiya has reached out to him, which is something he hasn't done since their very first botched up mission together when he yanked Yuri out of sight as they stalked that one man from the bank. Like he had been afraid of overstepping his boundaries.

That had been his fault, and he never wants to make Mamiya feel like that. Maybe they should kiss or do something, but right now, he doesn't mind that they're just holding each other.

It's proof that Mamiya has feelings for him. He doesn't know if it matches his, but he's okay with this. He's okay if this is all they were going to do.

**.**

**Mamiya.**

He was probably heartsick without even realising it, aching for something he didn't he wanted this much. It's not that he hasn't been loved before, it's that he never accepted it. He numbed himself after the death of his parents, because there's no place for it. Or at least he tried to numb it.

What was the difference between being a child and being an adult? When you looked out for yourself, paid your bills, worked? But some kids had to do it. His parents weren't always home and he learned to make due with instant food or stuff from the convenience store. He washed dishes, did his homework, practiced violin and so forth. When he was a teen he start working, playing in some concerts, and he had his own back account by then. Adults depended on each other too, didn't they? Those who took care of their parents, or those who were in a relationship, or married. So was there any difference, beyond the legalistic stuff?

…it's not that difficult. Twenty was the coming-of-age year, and he didn't mark it as anything special. Years passed, and he's not a virgin either, because sex could be used to gain things. Or lose them.

He's looking for someone who wouldn't lie to him. He slept with the greedy, the dishonest, the curious, and the unwanted. It wasn't hard, to read people and manipulate them, and by the time Sakura found him, he's gotten his farces down perfectly. He's also looking for someone he doesn't have to lie to. Not everything he does is lie; he wanted to give this Sakura thing a try before he ended it, because why not? Maybe something good will come out of it.

But the longer he's here, the less he wants to play this, and the more he wants to be himself. Yuri Kaitou ends up in his bed more often than not, though in the past month they haven't done anything beyond holding hands and sleeping in the same bed. They touch, but not really intimately. It only feels like a step above acquaintances.

When he wakes up earlier, he tends to watch Yuri sleeping. Yuri curls up on his side, one hand tucked under his pillow. He always seems to sleep so well, and he's never said anything about Mamiya's restlessness keeping him up. Sometimes he snores, a tiny bit. Mamiya sometimes touches his head, or his back. Just mostly laying his hand there, to make sure he's not imagining things. And sometimes Yuri reaches back, and flops his hand on Mamiya's shoulder.

Mamiya ought to say something, about those words that Yuri gave to him weeks ago. It just didn't seem adequate…or what if, it was fake? He has plans, he has things he needs to do. He doesn't want to betray Yuri. He doesn't want to hurt him.

He just wants this sort of life, of waking up with someone beside him. When Yuri wakes up, he always yawns, and then smiles. A smile that's like flowers blooming with the sun, spreading their colours. It warms him. It also scares him, just how much he likes Yuri. He's never liked a person this much, or expected another person to like him in the same way. Maybe even more. He always tenses before he smiles, like he can't relax because of the thoughts.

Sometimes thinking is so wearying he wonders if this is how people are addicted to sleep, so that they can live in dreams and not face reality. In reality, things hurt. Things dragged down and crumbled your heart, and people say it's good for building you up, but he really can't. He just wants to live in the now, and not think about the future.

Such thoughts chased each other, over and over. When Yuri snuggles against him, he counts that as some level of…something. It meant something. He's special to Yuri, right? Yuri is pure, kind, caring…

It's one of these mornings when they finally kiss. Not a very good one, because he's wishing he brushed his teeth and washed up. But Yuri doesn't seem to mind, and he…well, he sparkles for the rest of the day. Not to mention his heartrate changes anytime he looks at Mamiya—

His own pulse is a mess, dropping and accelerating like he was some teenager. He wants to smile, wants to talk about things not related to Sakura…wants to know more about Yuri. He wants to kiss more of him.

He can be selfish, and think about leaving with Yuri. It's not impossible, but it'd be complicated. He hasn't told the whole truth, because how can he?

It's been over half a year, and he's still too afraid to talk about his deepest secrets.

But he loves Yuri. He loves him a lot.

_I'm a doomed man, probably._

**.**


	6. Chapter 6

**.**

**Yuri.**

When they talk about their pasts, there's things both of them don't speak much about. Yuri doesn't like talking about the months he lost to hallucinations, and Mamiya barely talks about his childhood. Things they're not proud of. Their worst, weakest moments.

They still have off-days. Sometimes Yuri gets reminded of the ocean, and he makes excuses to go find Mamoru to talk. Sometimes Mamiya looks like he's ready to flee, poised for action. They haven't had an argument, haven't even yelled at each other, but they always hate those times, and usually they try to make up for it.

He overthinks, and Mamiya is too anxious. Sometimes he wonders if all of them weren't better off at a hospital then they were here. Sure, he's on some medication and it helps, but the taste of powder washed down by water is still not substitute for being perfect well. He sees other Sakura members, and knows the same goes them as well. They're so dependent. If your Messiah dies, you barely even have time to mourn before they shoved another person at you and hope you were compatible.

But it's not like they have much choice. They can't leave. They can only graduate…and then they continue in this pattern of life until either death or "retirement."

He has to remember it's better than staring at self-contained walls and holding conversations with the dead. Besides, there are others to think about. There is Mamiya.

Mamiya…is a flower that blooms rarely. It's not the greatest of metaphors, but that's better than…say, comparing him to a blue moon. Quiet, mysterious, and sad. He's definitely gotten better; they kiss every day now, and there's always more smiles. Conversations weren't a difficult thing, and it's almost normal.

Almost.

He speculates about the things Mamiya doesn't tell him. Just how bad could it be, or how embarrassing? He locked himself up in a room—that's pathetic enough, right? He does notice the reactions Mamiya has to how people touch him. Obviously, there had been trauma. He got enough hints to know it wasn't child abuse, at least. Something in between the years the death of his parents and the time he came to Sakura. He can only speculate so much.

Out of sheer respect, he keeps himself from digging through files. It'd be very easy for him, but he wants to hear it from Mamiya.

He tells him this, too.

"I've never tried to look," he says, earnestly. "In fact, I've only ever seen a small amount of Ariga's file, because I was helping Mamoru."

"I believe you," Mamiya replies, fingers fidgeting as he rubs rosin against his bow. "Besides, those files aren't complete."

"Not…complete?"

"It doesn't have everything."

_But it's something that makes you sad and distant._ He doesn't like it, feeling like if he just turned away for one second, Mamiya would be gone.

"What will it take for you to tell me?"

"I don't know." The admittance is quiet. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Nothing hurts me anymore. The worst's already been done."

"You might never trust me again."

"After all this time? Of course I'll still trust you." Eight months is a long time, no? "You're my Messiah. I think I can tell the sort of person you are, and it's not someone awful."

Maybe Mamiya's killed some people. That's the only thing he can think of, that would make Mamiya this ashamed. "But even if, it'd be unfair to abandon you after the time we've spent together."

Mamiya sharply turns to look at him. "Can you really make a promise like that, despite my never saying a word?"

"Yeah, of course." He shuts his laptop, the sound of it making a satisfying click. "You deserve that."

He didn't think someone could look touched and devastated at the same time, but Mamiya does just that. Like he's happy to heart it, but at the same time, it bothers him.

"I'm going to sleep, Mamiya. It's late." He hopes it doesn't sound abrupt, but there's no more to be had in this conversation, touching upon painful matters. Tomorrow is another day—

"Seiren."

He goes very still, in disbelief.

"It's…Seiren."

"Seiren," he tests out. Mamiya Seiren. Yuri realises, that he's probably the first person to call Mamiya that for years. "Well, now you have to call me Kaitou, to make it even."

"Kaitou?"

Mamiya saying his name, so carefully and slowly, it causes him to grin slightly. "That only took nearly a year," he quips. "But I should've said from the beginning you could call me Kaitou."

"Well, in the beginning I wasn't sure…"

Yeah, he didn't exactly make himself the most welcoming figure, did he? He runs his tongue over his lip, ducking his head. "But we're okay now, aren't we?"

"I think so." Mamiya is capable of looking incredibly sincere—sometimes, it seems like he's the want that wants to believe. What bothers him about his past, whatever he's hiding, he still wants this.

_I can wait._

"Good night, Seiren."

"You too, Kaitou."

**.**

**Mamiya.**

Nine months is a good time to have a true argument. Everyone is stressed; their senpai just graduated and they're left on their own, pressure was put on them…and he's got his own personal problems. Messages from his subordinates tell him he needs to act, eventually. His time is coming to an end.

_'_ _Wait four more months.'_

_'_ _Is something happening in four months?'_

_'_ _It'll be a year.'_

_'_ _We didn't think you were sentimental.'_

_'_ _Well you thought wrong. There's something I want to complete here.'_

Okay, it was a more complicated conversation than that. But he wants to finish a year, with Yuri, and…see how things go. He could disband Quantum Cat even, or turn it over. Like maybe he's seen some traces of hope and he's venturing down that path.

But long hours and missions are draining. Yuri gets moody, and Mamiya withdraws. Old habits still died hard. Maybe they're itching for a real fight. Maybe they're wanting for something.

Closeness with someone brings out all the emotions, and he realise Sakura is a trap. You had to be each other's therapists, and fix each other's problems. You could support them one day, and then devastate them the next. You could live, you could die. It's possible to die from stress or even heartbreak. The whole "You can't sleep with anyone else expect your Messiah" rule is the one least spoken about, but oddly enough most encouraged. What, did sex keep you from going mad? Maybe partially. People were too polite to be holding hands or kissing before missions, but it was obvious. Everyone here is the same levels of fucked up.

But there probably isn't anyone as fucked up as he is. He's heard about traitors, people who come in with a purpose. They left, they died, and life went on. But where does he fit in? He wants to remain close to Yuri, but he's obligated to finish what he's started. He doesn't want to, but he doesn't want to stay in Sakura forever, either.

These nights, he waits for Yuri to go sleep, before he goes and shuts himself in the closet. It's the stupidest ritual but he does it to think, to try to calm down. Their performance is going steadily down and he knows it's his fault because his state of mind is so bad.

Yuri's going to die at this rate.

And it'd be his fault.

But it's Yuri who finally pulls him aside after another disappointing, weary day, and sits him down. "We need to talk."

"I suppose we do." He prepares himself, for another conversation about himself that will go nowhere.

"For _real_. Kamikita-san is going to talk to us tomorrow. Kuroko-san told me."

"Did he say anything else?"

"He implied…" Yuri's…gotten good at moderating his heartrate. Probably because he knows how much Mamiya can pick up, so he's either very honest, or very neutral. He's adapted. "I think you know."

_He's trying not to worry me,_ Mamiya can tell. But even now, he still shakes his head. "I haven't been my best this past month. I'll do better." He has to. He wants to make it up to a year, for Yuri's sake.

"That's not the problem here." Yuri's foot kicks the table as he leans forward. "Seiren, something's eating you up. I think it's been doing that since you first arrived, but I couldn't tell back then. Now I can."

"I'm fine. I've just been tired."

"No."

Slow terror is digging its claws into him; he tries to fight it. "There's nothing to say."

"You know what I'm going to ask. What I need to know."

"There's _nothing_."

"There's definitely something. I'll try to look it up. You can sit here while I—"

" _You won't find it_." Maybe Yuri will find the account of the concert where his parents died, but that doesn't give anything. "I told you before." His voice goes up a notch, and any second now, it would start shaking.

"Then tell me. It stays between us, I won't tell anyone. I won't even tell Mamoru."

"Kaitou, I can't—" He stands and just about trips over his own feet as he tries to head for the door.

A hand grabs his wrist, and when he's yanked by down, there's a sharp sting on his cheek that startles him.

Did…Yuri just…

"Sorry." Yuri looks as startled as him. "I didn't—" He looks at his hand, then back at Mamiya. "Please don't go."

His chest suddenly feels too tight.

_You want me…to stay._

His throat closes; he sinks back down, legs no longer supportive. Gingerly, he touches his face, but the pain is already fading. There's not going to be any sign of this. But he knows the only time Yuri really lashes out, is when he's under stress, or if he's truly worried. He didn't even raise his voice this time. And oddly, this is better than if someone grabbed him and shook him.

"I'm not going," Mamiya hears himself say.

"You better now." Yuri looks chagrined. "I didn't mean to hit you."

And then he's reaching forward, and Mamiya finds himself leaning towards him. They meet, and his chin clips Yuri's shoulder, while the back of his uniform is wrinkled in a fist. His own arms are probably too tight, crushing Yuri to himself.

"I wish you'd tell me."

"What I tell you could possibly hurt you."

"So? I won't hate you. I'm your Messiah. I'll bear it."

"Can you?"

"After all these months? Yeah."

_I'm a terrorist. The kind Sakura goes against._

Instead, he says, "My parents were terrorists. They didn't hide it from me. They died while I was playing a concert." _And then I become one, too._ "I grew up trying to figure out if they were right, or if the world was right. I couldn't have friends over, and we moved a lot, too. I didn't have many friends, either." _If I did, I'd probably have to kill of them. Thankfully the world doesn't care that there's no longer a Mamiya Seiren. My music career wasn't long enough for that._ "I've seen my parents kill people. They didn't ever let me hold a gun, but every time they tried to hug me…it didn't feel right. They spend a day out blowing up stuff or killing people, and then they'd come home to say good night to me."

And now he's tainted himself. He's killed too. He's followed in their footsteps. He's taken revenge, and now he's been on this job.

"So people were after you, and that's when the Church picked you up?"

"Something like that." He'll take it for a good sign that Yuri hasn't moved; his breathing, pulse, and voice are still quite steady too. "My parents were left out of my files. I'm sorry they died, but I'm…they…they deserved to."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be."

"But I am…because you had to grow up like that." Yuri's hand on his back finally loosens up, the leather underneath his fingers creaking slightly. "It was lonely, wasn't it?"

He draws in air, deeply, and the last bit of it gets stuck.

"I don't think I'm allowed to say this, because I didn't learned it easily, but you're not your parents. Their death shouldn't control you." Here, he feels Yuri's own bit of pain at clearly as his own. "There's people who just want you to be all right."

Sometimes, he does think about giving it all up. Maybe if he admitted and renounced it all, they'd be all right with it. He'd probably be watched closely, but maybe it could turn out all right.

Being a terrorist has become like a last resort, something comfortable. You get comfortable with misery, and the idea of not feeling well is so familiar that being actually well and clear-minded is terrifying. It's become an excuse to fall back to. Demons didn't judge, but the angels might. God might. That's why he keeps going back.

But Yuri is Yuri.

"I killed before being in Sakura."

"I let myself die in a room for several months because I refused to face reality. But now we're both here."

"This place isn't great, either."

"No." Yuri's laugh sounds more like a sigh. "But I wouldn't have met you."

He's had thoughts of death before. So many times. He didn't actively seek it, or even ever put a gun to his own head, but he's contemplated the fastest way to go. Just another terrorist, erased for the safely of this world. And if he died in Sakura, just another cadet lost, and to be replaced.

Yet there is Yuri. If he'd died, he wouldn't have met him. And if he dies now, or leaves, Yuri would be lost.

There's four months to go. Maybe some circumstances could still change.

"I'm really sorry about hitting you, before."

"No, it's fine. It's…" He shrugs against Yuri. "You cared enough about me to do that, to keep me here." It didn't even hurt anymore.

"I…want to make up for it. Also for when we first met."

"You don't have to."

" _Seiren_."

He doesn't ever get tired of how Yuri says his name. Cliché, but so true. In the mouth of someone that loves you, your name is safe, as safe as you are physically with them.

Yuri's gotten so much better at kissing. They do it quite often, and right now, it's very welcome. Shared warmth, and all the sounds—they swallow, they breath, they live. When he closes his eyes, it's like a piece of heaven.

It's when Yuri tugs at the collar of his own uniform, unclasping it, that Mamiya opens his eyes.

"Kaitou?"

"Well…" The sound of buttons getting popped open is very loud, compared to their voices. "The time seems right…"

"I guess so." They've been dancing around this for so long, and so maybe it's finally right. As they shed their coats, it's like they're leaving Sakura somewhere, and going away, just the two of them. It's always been a confining uniform, and a heavy one at that.

They've seen each other shirtless before; they shared this room, after all. But it's the first time they're letting their hands linger over more skin, and not simply touching and going. Yuri somehow gets his hands up the front of Mamiya's shirt and he first pressure makes him sigh and shut his eyes. He hooks his own fingers to Yuri's back, sliding them a long torso, which Mamiya finds very nice, especially when Yuri squirms to be closer with him.

Getting to bed and getting their clothes off was a little more troublesome; his arm got stuck when Yuri was trying to tug it off him, and Yuri fell over getting his pants down. They both are grinning stupidly and he realises Yuri probably hasn't had much experience, and his own experiences were far from being great.

But he likes how Yuri touches him cautiously. He traces over outlines of bones and muscles, fingertips grazing skin. His gaze doesn't leave Mamiya, not once. Sincerity makes up for experience. Himself, he tries his best as well. He runs his hand through Yuri's hair, through the bangs that hang over his face, and he kisses as much skin as he can, running his lips over veins and biting down occasionally.

He likes this a lot. He likes this better then getting fucked hard, better than what people have tried to persuade him to do. If Messiahs are lovers, then he's got the best one. Yuri's happy, eager, and caring, and it's nice to see and hear both of that. Maybe he's getting a little high off someone else's happiness, but it's surpasses his own feelings and so he loses himself in it.

He hardly merits this. If he told Yuri he was a terrorist, they probably wouldn't be doing this. Yuri wouldn't leave, but he'd be disappointed.

And when Mamiya thinks about that disappointment, he'd sooner die than say it. Some things…he just can't. Break someone's heart, stamp on it…he's not cruel. He killed quickly, always. And he'd rather Yuri not see that side of him because it's so _ugly_.

Watching Yuri, with half-closed eyes and his mouth open even though there's barely any sound, as they move together, is a beauty he cannot destroy. So he swallows all of it and turns it into making Yuri feel as good as he can. Passionately. Yuri is the first person who has loved him like this, and the first one he's ever really loved.

It didn't matter their first meeting wasn't great; they figured it out and they're here. But even as he feels Yuri digging his nails into his shoulders, and he's rolling his head back and they're falling on their sides, the sadness still remains.

_I can't tell you._

_I'm not brave enough to do that. You're the brave one._

He pulls Yuri tight to him, and nearly sobs, but turns it into shaky breaths instead. Clutches him tightly, strokes his hair, and probably over uses his name.

_But thank you for showing me what it's like, to be loved like this._

Taint, when in touches something pure, it out to blemish the perfect. But sometimes, the purity is so strong it shines and the taint is afraid of it.

_Maybe I'll really let you save me one day._

**.**


	7. Chapter 7

**.**

**Yuri.**

Understanding Mamiya hasn't been easy. To say the least, it was different from being with Mamoru. Mamoru he's known for so many years, and it's like having a brother around. But he can't even ask Mamoru all that much, because it's Mamiya, and what happens among Messiahs is their own thing.

The internet isn't even great for research, either. Too much speculation, and he ends up just trying to figuring it out on his own, bit by bit.

But they're at eleven months and two weeks, and he likes to think they've improved. Performance was good, missions were carried out, and they make time for each other. Mamiya, by default, looks melancholy, but he lights up after time Yuri talks to him. They enjoy each other's company, seek it out, and it feels like as much peace they could get in an organisation like Sakura.

"Do you ever wonder why they called it Sakura?" Yuri asks Mamiya one day.

"Because this is run by the government, and the national flower is the cherry blossom?"

"It's technically not, actually. People want either the chrysanthemum or the cherry blossom, but we don't have a national flower."

"Hm…I hope it's not saying that we die very quickly."

"Considering how the graduation rate is at 73.7%, it's…still a success."

Mamiya looks at him. "I didn't know that. It's amazing how you memorise this information."

He finds himself blushing even though it's not the first compliment he's ever gotten. "I'm too curious. That's how I get in trouble."

"You're the best hacker we have." Mamiya pats him on the arm. "Curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back."

"…is that the second part of that?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Now that's something I never knew."

They probably look like a new couple, the way this amuses them and grin at each other. "It's a good thing they say cats have more than one life."

"It is, isn't it." Mamiya's smile is a little funny here, but Yuri decides not to read too much into it.

"I tried to see if 'Sakura' was initials for anything, but nothing came up. It really might just be as you said; the associations with Japan itself, and the fact we protect it."

They both know it's not as ideal as that; they've worked enough with ex-terrorists to know some people were trying to do things their own way.

"No one would guess 'Sakura' stands for an organisation like that." No one signed up to be here, after. They were forced, or they had no choice. Sakura keeps an eye out for people who'd be forgotten, and even if people did remember, their records were all erased.

"Do you think about what you'd be doing if you were here?"

"Sometimes." Yuri stretches out his hands in front of him. "I might still be hacking, or maybe I'd be a computer programmer. I'd have to finish school though…" Hackers didn't exactly have steady income. "You? I'd imagine you in Europe."

"I've been to Europe once."

"Really? What was that like?"

"Interesting. I played with an orchestra." Mamiya closes his eyes. "I got an offer, but I was still in high school then, so I turned it down."

Mamiya would've looked beautiful in the spotlight, him and violin. He can picture it, can almost hear it. It's still so strange, how a musician, born to terrorists, is an assassin…and his Messiah.

Fate's funny.

He laughs to himself, and catches Mamiya looking at him. "What?"

"Nothing. I've just always liked your smile." Fingers slide against his. "It's calming."

They're outside, sitting in the park, and probably this isn't appropriate. But he doesn't care; there's a light breeze and they have the rest of the day off, so he's going to enjoy this.

"It's nearly a year, isn't it."

"Yes."

"I wonder if people celebrate that sort of thing."

"I never thought to ask."

"I think for Mitsumi-san and Kaidou-san, they never did. But I never found out their birthdays, either." Yuri also knows that Mitsumi's had a bad history with his Messiahs. "Do you think they'd be bothered if we asked for that day off?"

Mamiya shrugs. "You could bring it up to Kamikita-san."

He doesn't miss the way Mamiya's fingers tighten on his, though. "Are you okay with it? I'm just thinking out loud. We don't have to celebrate it."

"I'm okay with it. I'm—I have a lot of thoughts." The fingers loosen up. "A year is something to be proud of. I don't think I've ever been in a relationship that long."

"Neither have I."

 _Congratulations to both of us, then._ A year ago, he thought he'd be partnered with Mamoru. But this…it's been so long since he last had other friends. And he really likes Mamiya. He's come to like how Mamiya's hair is messy at the ends, and how he has really expressive eyes, and his lips were very interesting too. And his hands…they had calluses that he has come to know as well as his own hands.

"Kaitou."

"Yeah?"

"Meeting you was one of the best things to have happened to me." Mamiya's ears are pink; he sees it when he's pushing his hair back. "You listened. You cared. I don't think I'm very good at being a Messiah, but you were always great."

"Oh, please." He nudges Mamiya in the shoulder. "I basically threw a tantrum the first time we met. You could've yelled at me then, but you didn't. You're more patient then me. Way more patient."

He had to do some coaxing, but it had been worth it. Getting to know Mamiya was a joy. "We both did this. It's a partnership."

It's not too shocking and Mamiya slips his hands against his shoulder and kisses him. Mamiya always is so careful at first, reading the mood, and just light pressure until he's sure Yuri wants more.

He'd always want more, because it's Mamiya.

No one talks about their sex lives, but in Sakura, you could tell. Some people were pretty obvious when they showed up messy and with unbuttoned coats. Other people, you saw in their gestures and their eyes. At least most of them were quiet (with _some_ being the outlier, like their graduated senpai…). He has yet to see anyone making out in the hallways or in a public room.

If they did it here, they might be arrested. He tries to picture Kamikita's face, because he'd have to be the one to bail them out, and he accidentally laughs mid-kiss. Mamiya laughs too, not understanding, but clearly he likes Yuri's amusement.

They return, suffer through a meeting, making conversation, eat, and he counts the minutes until they're back in their room. He barely gets the door shut and locked before Mamiya bumps him against the wall, getting his knee in between his legs and kissing him _hard_.

 _Oh, so is that how it's going to be today?_ He reaches a hand up, tangling it in Mamiya's hair. _Okay_. He fumbles with his clothes, happy that he chose to wear something buttons today. However, he only has time get the coat off, and one arm out of a sleeve, before Mamiya grabs his hand and rolls his hips forward against Yuri's. So much for that. He hooks his leg up, satisfied to hear and feel Mamiya shuddering into him.

Three months isn't long, but enough to learn what they like. He finally manages to wrangle the rest of his shirt off, and then he's running his own hands wherever he can get, until Mamiya slides downwards and suddenly he loses coordination in his hands. Dammit, but Mamiya was good at that, making him concentrate on keeping himself upright and still, and also shoving his hand against his mouth to muffle sounds. It's unfair, how fast Mamiya can be sometimes. Maybe it comes with playing an instrument. Certainly skilled _fingers_. Only when Yuri frantically yanks at his hair does he stop, and shift back up.

"You're unfair."

"Unfair?"

Yuri shoves at him. "You know what I mean." He kicks the rest of his clothes off, and works on Mamiya's clothes.

"But I was—" Mamiya grips him suddenly, because Yuri's tucking his hand into certain places. "Touché."

It's almost funny how both of them are so quiet. So careful. They get a little intense now and then, but they probably are the placeholder for being quiet.

But it's not like it's easy; he shoves his face in a pillow and breathes though his nose, and he whispers Mamiya's name over and over. He knows Mamiya likes hearing it, he can tell it affects him.

_I don't want another Messiah. I want you. I still want to know more about you—_

He bites down on Mamiya's shoulder when he comes, cutting off a moan. Mamiya tugs on his hair, pressing their mouths together hard, and they both hold onto each other.

"Kaitou."

He makes a sound that vaguely meant 'yes.'

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

So sappy. But from Mamiya, it always sounds like a new confession, another pledge. Like he's still amazed he's with Yuri. He always looks content…and wistful, when they finish. Yuri ends up with his arms around Mamiya, tucking him against him.

He hopes they won't graduate too soon, because not even a full life is enough for him, to spend with his Messiah.

**.**

**Mamiya**

Some tragedies, you couldn't prevent. If he were to go back in time, he'd wish to never be born. To wish his parents hadn't died, or that they weren't terrorist—it's too much trouble. Better that he never lived.

Better that Yuri didn't meet him. He deserved better.

He deserved someone who was honest with him.

At the very least, he wouldn't have to see Yuri's face or here how his heartrate accelerates, when he finally, finally admits the truth.

"I'm the leader of Quantum Cat. Code name: Short-hair."

He gains no pleasure from saying that. Rather, he feels his own heart feel like is being torn to pieces, and he's the one doing it to himself.

_Why?_

Yuri has a gun on him, but the safety is on and his hands are shaking. "I don't want to kill you, Seiren."

"Then will you join me?"

A wild head shake.

"I'm sorry." His voice chokes out. "But I have to."

"If you had told me months ago, I'm sure something could've been done. You never lied, but you didn't tell me everything."

"I didn't want to hurt you."

"What about now?"

Everything tells him to drop his own gun, to surrender, but it's too late. He can't go back. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "Kaitou."

The gunshot is loud, and it wasn't from Yuri. He fells himself falling, reaching out a hand for his Messiah—

And he finds himself accidentally poking Yuri in the face. "Ow!"

"Kaitou…?" Disorientated, he peers around; it's their room, the clock says 4am, and Yuri is bending over him. He's drenched in sweat, and the blankets are gone.

Ah.

"That was a pretty bad dream, wasn't it." Yuri touches the side of his face. "You said my name."

Mamiya puts his hand over his eyes, and tries to breath.

It's not going to be just a dream, soon. He got the email; it was now or never. His year is up.

"Hey…Seiren…" So soft, and so concerned. "You're shaking. Do you want me to get you some water?"

"No, I don't need anything."

"Then do you want to talk?"

"I—" Remnants of his dream flash before his eyes. "I'm not who you think I am."

"You're my Messiah."

"I'm a _terrorist_." The words break out. "I'm the leader of Quantum Cat."

Silence. He can see and hear Yuri sitting motionlessly, and his pulse fluctuates. "…the group we only just fought yesterday."

"Yes."

"So you're Short-hair."

"Yes."

Someone else might say "oh please, Mamiya, you're joking. That's such a horrible joke." But not Yuri. Yuri simply sits, and Mamiya is wondering if he ought to get up and turn himself in at this point, because the cat's out of the bag (hah) and his terrorist plans are gone to shit, because Yuri knows.

A click, and the lamp is switched on. The brightness makes them both squint, but he sits up, and he sits Yuri sitting with his head buried in his hands.

"Kaitou, I…" I'm sorry.

"You're still my Messiah." Yuri raises his head. "They put us together. You protected me before. You know _me_ more intimately then anyone else." His voice is a low rasp, just above a whisper. "I'm supposed to be angry, aren't I? I should be turning you in. But I _can't_ , Seiren."

He looks away, stares at his hands. Tries to breathe. Tries to remember just why he came a terrorist, why he killed people, why he's the leader, and why he can't stop all of this.

One year to know a person, half a year to love them. One month to say goodbye, and one day to regret.

"If you want me to leave, I can do that now." Slink out, and leave while Yuri isn't angry.

"What? I want you to stay."

"But—"

"Seiren." Yuri grips his hands, eyes a little wild. "Let me _think_."

He waits. Keeps an eye on the clock; he counts seven minutes. seven long minutes as Yuri gets up and paces the room, puts his head against the wall, sits down at the desk, and finally returns. seven minutes of him sitting, frozen, on the bed, hunching his shoulders and squeezing his fists.

When Yuri finally sits back down on the bed with him, Mamiya is at least a little calm, having shaken off the feeling of the dream.

"I want to know why. Was it because of your parents?"

"Partially. They died so horribly. I have to avenge them. And then I ran into some pretty people. They also deserved to die." He laughs a little, hollow and cold. "I kept finding people like this. It'd be so much better without them, and honestly, it's not like Sakura is great. They keep us here like prisoners, killing for them. Sakura members are paid terrorists. We don't get paid, and when we graduate, we get separated from the person closest to us. None of that is unfair."

He remembers the buried anger, and the bitterness. Yes, he loathes himself above everyone else, but he at least has the dignity to kill with his own hands to make sense of a fucked up world. Tsutsumi Reiji used the word _monster_ , compared them to each other, and he had killed him after that.

"Maybe if I blow this place up, it'd be better for everyone else, too." He's so tired, so weary of thinking. He's buried his dreams and he's buried hope, and yet it still pops up and he tries to reach for it. But he could never take hold of it, not when he's this tainted. This ugly. "You don't even have to understand it. I know it doesn't make sense to people. But you wanted to know why." Numbly, he finishes. He didn't even raise his voice; it's not Yuri that he's mad at. He's mad at himself.

More silence. He looks at the wall, and wishes he were dead, right now.

"Is that…everything?"

He nods.

"I just wish you told me earlier."

 _What?_ His head snaps up, and Yuri is looking at him with incredibly sad eyes, but there's no disgust, no pity.

"Seiren," Yuri says, and it seems like he's treating the name like a prayer. "It's okay."

"But—"

"Maybe not okay in some ways because it'd be complicated if this gets out, but—it's okay that you told me. I said before, didn't I? You can trust me." Yuri reaches out, once again holding his hands. "I get it."

Actually, he's still waiting for the word to be thrown out. Maybe this is an extended dream. A dream within a dream, like that one movie that was popular years ago. Maybe he has to shoot himself to wake, and find he's living an entirely different life.

But that's foolish thinking.

Yet, how can he process this? When you threw stones, you expect to have to defend yourself. When you tore down your walls, you were as good as dead.

However, here is Yuri, still touching, and while he's trying to process this, he's not telling Mamiya to get out.

"I was guessing something terrible, but I didn't think…it'd be that." Yuri speaks slowly, and he's leaning in closer, until their foreheads bump. "I get why that wasn't in your records. You're probably the most secretive person I know. But you were trying to protect yourself, weren't you?"

He assumes that's rhetorical question, so he simply lets Yuri continue.

"I don't know what to say about the people you've killed. It's true that Sakura tells us to kill someone, and we're supposed to do it without asking questions. But the Mamiya Seiren I know—the one I've been with for a year—" he draws air in and slowly releases it. "—he's always been kind to me. Patient. He's got a beautiful smile. He likes cats, and he's a genius with his violin. He's looked out for me, and he listens when I talk. I've always wondered why sometimes, he's so far away. Why he's so sad. Why it seems like he's carrying everything on his shoulders, and it seems like too much. I thought, 'he probably doesn't trust me enough.' But I know now that's not the case. You were scared, weren't you."

He nods, the gesture unnecessary, but he did it anyway.

"You also didn't want to hurt me. You thought it'd be better if you did this by yourself." Fingers, warm and careful, are laid on his shoulder. "But tonight you finally told me. I don't want this to sound condescending, but I'm still proud to be your Messiah."

He doesn't know what kind of expression he should have to that, or even the words because _how_.

Yuri shrugs a little. "It's…It's brave. When my brother died, they put me in a hospital and on meds. It worked for a while, and then they let me out. And then I started hacking, and it became everything. I started talking to my brother, and before I knew it, I thought he was still alive. When Sakura caught up with me, I didn't want to join them…so they put me in a room, but left the key. I thought it was weird, but I stayed there because I wanted to. I wanted to be with my brother, while everything in the world continued on. It was pretty pathetic."

Mamiya wants to tell him it wasn't, but he's basically lost his voice right now.

"It was when Mamoru was in danger that I finally had to stop lying to myself. I thought about jumping off a building before leaving that room, but Mamoru…I couldn't lose him. He's family. So I finally got out." Yuri licks the corner of his mouth. "But I was still a mess when you met me. And I know this doesn't compare to what you've been through, but I think I get some of it. The hiding. Being comfortable in a bad place because you don't think you deserve nice things. Yeah?"

"Yeah." His throat dry and the word is breathed more than it's actually said.

"I still miss Haruto. Every day. But…if I still talked to him, I wouldn't be able to talk to you." Yuri's voice hitches. "If you left, we won't be able to talk at all."

"I don't know if I can stay."

"We'll make it work."

"But—"

"I want you to stay. I don't want someone else as my Messiah." Fingernails press into his shoulder, but not hard enough to sting. "You can't hurt me. So…let me help."

God, he's so pathetic. He so indecisive. If he were completely cold, he'd knock Yuri out and be out of here. Or kill him. Instead, he's wavering between staying and leaving, and wanting both and neither. He's the worst terrorist over and probably the worst Messiah, for everything he's putting Yuri through.

But he's still wanted.

Someone believes in him.

His vision blurs when he nods, and Yuri folds his arms around his frame. Suddenly, he's limp, sagging into him and trying not to make a mess of himself…

Oh wait, he already is.

Yet Yuri is still there.

Is this what being Messiahs meant? Is it finding a soul that answers yours, and reaches out to you? Was there really, truly, a place for tainted, desecrated people like him?

He found his answer. An incomplete one, but he knows that Yuri won't let him die. There's technical stuff, probably negotiations, and maybe he's going to be stuck here for longer. They might even lock him up for an amount of him. Likely they want information, too.

But for now, it's fine. It's the first time he's cried since his parents' death, and for once, it doesn't feel like everything and everyone is set against him.

Being with Yuri, he thinks, he can raise his head and step forward. If this is the year he took chances, then next year will be the one he actually lives.

And this time, he isn't alone.

**.end.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's easier for me to write Mamiya than it is Yuri, but I love writing both them. I've been wanting to write something like this for a while, and like I said in the beginning, I sort of sat on it until I couldn't ignore it any longer, and then it was a rush to finish it by Stephanie's birthday lol. I apologise for the typos and I'll likely edit/tweak this a little more, but I can say this is complete.
> 
> This AU isn't meant to be a replacement or rewrite of canon; I already have a whole essay on Mamiya so I won't go into details, but I wanted to explore this other possibility, of Mamiya and Yuri being Messiahs, and how the whole thing with Mamiya's past would go. Hopefully it's not too out there, hopefully it's believable, and hopefully, it's been a good read. Parts of it weren't exactly easy to write, but when you want something to be told, you just have to write it.
> 
> All of that being said, thank you for reading!


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